


Courting Donna (Unfinished)

by Callistra



Category: Doctor Who, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callistra/pseuds/Callistra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Courting Donna<br/>Author: Callisto Shampoo<br/>Rating: No sex yet!<br/>Length: 3400words<br/>Pairing(s)/Character(s): Jack Harkness/Donna/Jack Sparrow<br/>Genre/Category: humour, sex<br/>Warnings: Sex, threesome, AU.<br/>Spoilers: Yeah, starts off after the last episode with Donna at the end of season ... um.. four?<br/>Summary: Donna meets a handsome stranger in a pub. Things get stranger.</p><p>Originally posted May 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

Jack stepped out the cubicle, shrugging his jacket on. He ran a hand through his air, winked at himself in the mirror and grinned before stepping into the pub. A quick scan was difficult; too many people, shouting and smoking, celebrating the end of another working week. He began to work his way through the press of bodies, eyes alert for flame hair. He caught her out of the corner of his eye; his gaze snapped to hers and his grin was scintillating. A woman he was currently pressed against whispered a hello as he slipped away from her, closer to his quarry. She had turned away though; no idea he was coming for her. He ran a hand through his hair again, tugged on his collar, and looked at Donna thoroughly.

She had no clue he was there. Or that he knew her. Her eyes tracked him for a second, and then she looked away, back to her friends. Glasses were raised, and he could hear her voice cutting through the noise. She looked trim and smart, business clothes with a nice cut. Nothing that made her stand out.

"And a toast to my recent promotion!" she said, sarcasm dripping from every word. Her friends screamed and laughed and toasted with her. Jack slowed to a halt. She wouldn't remember him. He headed to the bar. He needed a beer.

"I love working with reliable staff," he said. He was chatting to a handsome young man when the flash of red caught his eye again. Every cell in his body knew exactly where she was as she tried to weave her way through the crowd. He knew she would need another drink - eventually. He had time. It was one thing he had a lot of. He tugged his ear, trying not to grin like a predator.

"Get out of my bloody way," she snarled at someone. Jack tried to keep his eyes glued to his new friend.

"There's nothing quite like knowing they're there for you," he finished his sentence.

"Sean, by the way," his new friend said. "I saw you walk in here," he looked up from the beer cradled between his arms, and darted a glance at Jack. Jack almost smacked himself in the head. Sean was interested. He was attractive - and if Donna wasn't in the bar, he would have been perfect for a good night out in London. Jack's gaze slid back to flame hair.

"I'll have another jug, mate," Donna told the barman, still crackling with annoyance. Instantly, the man moved to her order. Feeling Jack's stare, she flicked her hair behind her, left and then right, and then turned to glare at him. For a second, she frowned. Then her glare returned.

"What are you lookin' at?" she grated. She collected her beer and turned around.

"You," Jack said, forgetting Sean. Donna looked at him again, and once again she looked puzzled.

"Do I... do I know you?" she asked, her anger gone for the briefest moment. "I wasn't drunk or nothin'," she asked suspiciously. Her anger was back in full force, her brows lowering and her chin lifted. He admired the curve of her cheekbones, and the jut of her nose. How could the Doctor have left her behind?

"No, no, really... my name's Jack," he said, proffering his hand. He tried to blind her with his grin.

"Men like you don't talk to women like me," she said in clipped tones, and her nose lifted even further. She looked Sean over thoroughly before she started to force her way back to her friends.

"Hot damn," Jack couldn't stop the admiring grin. "Hot fuckin' damn."

"Friend of yours?" Morose Sean asked.

"Not yet, I guess," Jack went over the entire conversation in his head again. He laughed.

"Women," Sean said to his drink.

"Can't get enough of 'em, can't leave 'em on a desert planet," Jack agreed, raising his beer. They sighed in unison. Jack swung around on his stool, leaning his elbows onto the bar behind him, and watched the circle of women. All of them were temps. Only one of them was a super temp. He wished her memory were whole - that they might start together as equals. Would she even consider a drink from him? She was less than impressed from her first glance. His grin broke through again. The chase was on. She wanted him. He wanted her. He'd just have to find a way. She slid a glance his way, but seeing him watching, her eyes skittered off. He yawned and stretched, hoping she was admiring the view he was offering. But when he opened his eyes again, she was still talking to the blonde on the far side of her.

He was going to have to think of a different tack.

***

"You dropped this," he swiped a damp twenty from the pavement, coming up to hand it to her. She bit her lip. Rain dripped on them, and a hesitant moon lit her features.

"You again?" Her gaze was clouded by alcohol, but she was as sharp and acerbic as ever. He tried hard to hide his delight at seeing her.

"My name's Jack," he said.

"None of your business," she said, declining to give him her name. They were outside the pub. The blonde was standing a few paces on, tapping her foot.

"May I walk you to your car?" he asked. His heart leapt in hope, even as his head knew she would turn him down.

"That's it there," she said, giving him a snide glance as she pointed to a vehicle three metres up the road. "You're already walking me to me car just by standin' here." They stared at each other for an awkward second. "Why are you here?" she asked.

"I wanted to meet you," he said. "I was hoping - " A car horn beeped, and they were illuminated in bright lights.

"This guy annoying you?" a female voice shouted, invisible behind the lights. Jack tried to shield his eyes. A small car was rested on the kerb while Donna's friends checked to make sure he wasn't dangerous.

"Nah, I think we're fine," Donna shouted back. "Thanks for checkin', Carly. I reckon I can take 'im," Donna said, and grinned. Her entire face glowed from within. His heart caught in his throat and the blonde behind her came a bit closer.

"Can I - can I see you again?" he asked, unable to stop his voice from tripping. Her grin grew even bigger.

"Nah," she said, shaking her head. Her eyes took in the breadth of his shoulders, the lines of his face, and then settled on his eyes. "Guys like you don't know what to do with women like me," she said, and turned away, the twenty clutched in her hand.

"Please - Donna - " he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. She stopped, her gaze pinning his hand.

"You know my name?"

"I heard them talking..."

"Well, then Jack," she reached up and peeled his fingers from her shoulder.

"Donna," he said, before she could say another word. She was going to cut him off again. "Please? Just coffee?"

"Oh for god's sake, Donna, just go out with the guy. Stop making it so bloody hard for 'im," her blonde friend sighed. "I'm cold, it's going to rain and just hurry up!"

"Stephie!" Donna hissed.

"What?" her friend implored. "Hurry. Up. Please!"

"Okay, stalker boy," Donna swung around to face him. "Doing anything tomorrow night?" she asked, her words like machine gun fire. "I'll be here, dead on seven, it's your only chance, and only cos I love Steffie like a sister. Got it?" She turned away, and now the key to the car was already in her hand.

"Yes Ma'am," he said, and his finger touched his brow in a salute. "Got it," he echoed softly as she got into her car, flashing him one last distrustful glance. His grin was wide enough to split melons.

***

He crossed his legs, and then shifted. He lifted his beer and then putting it down untouched. It was almost seven. His ankles crossed, and then uncrossed. Then he leaned forward to put both feet flat on the ground. Sean was here, up at the bar. Jack ignored the covert glances, worrying she might not come. He didn't want to be distracted when she arrived. She was making this all so difficult. If he didn't know she wanted him, he'd be less worried. If she remembered everything - well, now, that would be a different kettle of fish. He forced himself to lean back in the chair. He tucked his hands behind his head, and stretched his legs out under the low table. The chair was comfortable enough. He had come early, and selected the nook where Donna and her friends had been last night. He hoped he presented a casual, relaxed, mien.

"Hello, pretty boy," her voice was a complete surprise. He leapt to attention, almost tripping over his boots.

“Donna – please, take a seat. Would you like a drink?” he asked, surveying his flat, lukewarm beer. He turned to look at her. She sauntered past him and he ran a hand through his hair, unable to stop the grin. “You came,” he said.

“What, turn down a nice piece of beefcake like you?” she said with the cutting speed he was used to. “How could a girl ever turn the likes’o you down?” she sniggered, and took a seat directly opposite him. She was wearing a simple black dress with her trench coat. It brought out her feminine curves, highlighting her trim waist and full figure.

“Well, ah, you did,” he said, running his hand through his hair again. Where the hell was his calm? Where the hell was his control? He was the one with centuries of experience at this. He was flustered? He watched her take a seat, crossing her ankles and stretching out the same way he had been.

“I’ll have a gin and tonic then,” she said, her gaze a challenge.

“Gin and tonic,” he said.

“A drink?” she looked at him oddly. “You asked me if I …” He laughed. It just came bursting out of him. He was acting like a teenager, and had forgotten he had offered her a drink.

“Much more, and you’ll be blushin’,” she said in surprise.

“So much for Mister Machismo. You gotta work on that act some more,” she told him. Her gaze re-evaluated him, and he wondered what first impressions she was re-assessing. Her face softened.

“Listen. Jake,” she said.

“Jack,” he reminded her.

“Jack, you’re really not my type. I shouldn’t have come today, but this is my home pub,” she sat up, to talk to him earnestly.

“Oh Donna, how I’ve missed you,” he breathed, unaware the words slipped from his mouth.

“What did you say?” instantly her face hardened back into suspicion. “Who the hell are you? How can you miss me? I’ve never met you before in my life,” she said as she stood up. They stared at each other, his gaze frozen from his words, and hers hot with anger.

“I didn’t – I mean – please – just sit down,” he said. “Let’s start again. I’ll get some drinks, and then we can talk.”

“You think I’m going to just sit here and wait -,” she started to say, putting her hands on her hips.

“Please!” he shouted, hoping to deafen her into a momentarily silence. “Really, Donna – please,” he said more softly. Arms crossed, she sat down in the chair.

He brought the drinks back as quickly as he could. He had been trying to think of what to say next but still he came to a blank. Lying never worked with Donna. She could cut him to shreds. He needed Donna – but in more ways than one.

“I used to know someone just like you,” he said when he sat down. She was still tightly coiled in on herself, radiating suspicion. “I… I think I could have loved her. But she’s gone now. I couldn’t believe someone with the same hair colour could have the same name,” he said earnestly, re-arranging his drink coaster. He looked to her, his blue eyes intent.

“Same name, same hair?” she said. She gave him a look of pure disbelief.

“We were in New York,” he explained. “She helped me on a few cases. She was a police officer for the NYPD, and I needed someone on the inside at that time.” She snorted at that.

“Another me? Police officer? Pull the other one, its got bells on,” she relaxed enough to reach for her drink. “So what else did this other me do?”

“Swore like a trooper,” he lied. She laughed.

“Do you miss her then?” she asked.

“I do,” he said, and let the words resound in his head. “I don’t think I appreciated her enough, you know? We worked together, but I think I missed a chance I should have taken,” he said, giving her his most boyish grin. She smiled back.

“So when I saw you, I had to ask if you’d like a drink,” he finished. He raised his glass to her, and she tilted hers back at him.

“You don’t look like the sort of man to miss a chance,” she said. “You look like the sort of man who, if you got an inch, would run with a mile.” He flashed her his grin again.

“Pegged me rightly, ma’am,” he said, and saluted again.

“You did that last night, too,” she said with care. “You a military man then?” He nodded, and began to tell her some of his Earth based adventures.

***

“Can I see you again?” he asked, leaning against her doorway around her. She smiled up to him. One arm was above her, and he leaned on it. Their bodies were inches apart.

“What do you think I’m going to say?” she asked, her challenging gaze on his mouth. She wanted him to kiss her. He could feel it, knew all the signs, and knew just how much she wanted him to. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, feel her cheeks in his palms as he tasted her, but held back. It didn’t seem right just yet. Donna – his Donna – had wanted an equal. His heart had been twisted too often tonight. She had shone before, bright and brilliant. And now she was like a dowdy hen again, flashes of brilliance sheathed in self-depreciating wit and knife-like jabs of intuition. If he made his move on her now, while she thought he should take her… this was wrong. He hated the Doctor with all his heart for a brief moment. It wasn’t any one’s fault. They were lucky she was still alive. Her green eyes were still staring into his. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

“You’ll tell me when and where you want me,” he said. He was the tiniest bit breathless, fighting every cell in his body to just lean in and take what he should have taken months ago. “If you want me,” he said, his voice quavering. His uncertainty was far too obvious. His hand reached up of its own volition. His hand cupped her cheek, her jaw nestled in his palm, and his thumb smoothed her lip.

“If I want you,” she said. “I’ll let you know.” Her grin made him laugh, and a second later she was through the door and gone. Cold air rushed against him. “I’ll see you at the pub next Saturday then,” she shouted through the door as she locked it. “Same time, same place, and don’t you dare be late!” He leaned against the doorjamb, laughing.

“I’m free tomorrow!” he shouted back. “Tomorrow’s fine with me!” He was rewarded with her laughter, and the lights above him flicked out.

***

She came on the Sunday. The sight of her hair as she passed the window made his heart shoot to the stars. He stood up, that he might welcome her, as a lady should be welcomed.

“You’re here, bomber boy?” she stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. “I never said I was coming to see you!” she laughed. He grinned at her, but then looked down, to his feet, abashed by his enthusiasm for her company.

“Maybe I missed you,” he said and looked up. “I hoped…”

“Gave you that inch and now you’re runnin’,” she said, heading to the bar. “I’ll get you one of those cat’s piss beers you’ve been drinking, my shout,” she said, throwing her coat to him. He caught it, and put it on the chair next to his own, looking up to see her watching him. She turned away too fast, and he almost preened. She’d been checking him out. Things were looking good.

“Cat’s piss,” he murmured when she brought him the beer. She had also bought a gin and tonic, and something in a cocktail glass.

“I am here to see my friend Carly. You … just happen to be here in my home pub,” she reminded him. Her eyes crinkled. She seemed happy to see him.

“So you’re not here in case I might be?” he asked, risking life and limb with a grin.

“Arrogant male,” she snorted, and sipped her gin and tonic, sucking on the straw noisily. “Men always think things are always about them,” her eyes flashed with answering challenge. She fished out an ice cube and began to chew on it.

“I’m here! I got your message! Sorry I’m late, I hurried as soon as…” A brunette bounced up to Donna, mobile phone in hand. She was texting while she spoke. “Stephie wants to know how stalker boy went, by the…” she looked up as Donna covered her eyes with her free hand.

“Carly, stalker boy. Stalker boy, Carly,” she said without even removing her hand.

“Ah. Hi,” Carly said, sitting down in the chair opposite him. Her shopping landed around her on the chair and floor. She blushed bright red.

“Stalker boy?” he demanded. “Boy?” Donna dropped her hand. Her cheeks were flaring red.

“Stalker man doesn’t quite fall of the tongue so easily, stalker boy,” she shot at him. He was still mildly offended.

“You think of me as a boy?” Jack said. His voice was rising. He deliberately dropped it back down, and then took a mouthful of beer to slow him down. Cats piss. Dammit, she was right about that too. Donna clapped her hands over her eyes again.

“No problems with the stalker label?” she asked.

“I was getting to that, but my masculinity was impugned.”

“What does impugned mean?” Carly asked. Her blush had almost died away.

“Maligned,” Donna said. “Going for Mr Machismo again today are we?” she asked him. “I’ve got you pegged, you told me so yourself.”

"I’m not a stalker, nor a boy!” Donna and Carly laughed at him. He’d lost control of the situation – again. This was why he loved Donna. He could make women breathless with a grin, make men think twice about their sexuality, and yet with Donna he was stumped, stymied, and beaten. He laughed.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Courting Donna Part 2  
> Author: Callisto Shampoo  
> Rating: No sex yet! Some snogging occurs!  
> Length: 3700 words  
> Pairing(s)/Character(s): Jack Harkness/Donna/Jack Sparrow  
> Genre/Category: humour, sex  
> Warnings: Sex, threesome, AU.  
> Spoilers: Yeah, starts off after the last episode with Donna at the end of season ... um.. four?  
> Summary: Donna meets a handsome stranger in a pub. Things get stranger.
> 
> This leads straight off Part One. Don't bother to read this until you have read Part One.

“I’m not a stalker, nor a boy!” Donna and Carly laughed at him. He’d lost control of the situation – again. This was why he loved Donna. He could make women breathless with a grin, make men think twice about their sexuality, and yet with Donna he was stumped, stymied, and beaten. He laughed.

“Bomberman, then?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. He looked down, to his black pants and brown bomber jacket. He shrugged

“You could always call me Jack,” he suggested. A shadow fell over them, and every one’s eyes were drawn upwards.  
“Hi Sean,” Carly said, sitting up straight in her chair.  
“Sean,” Jack said, giving him a nod. Sean dropped a newspaper onto their table as he too a seat next to the brunette. The headline caught Jack’s eye – HIDDEN TREASURE OFF BARBADOS. He too a corner of the paper and pulled it closer to read the fine print while Carly introduced Donna to her ‘new man.’  
“And this is Jack,” she also introduced him. Jack looked up, and Sean gave him a nod back.  
“We’ve met,” Sean said.  
“Pleasure to meet you, Sean,” Donna said, giving Jack a reproachful look. What, did she want him to be friendlier to the guy? Any friendlier and he’d be sitting naked in his lap. He snorted at the idea and skimmed the article.  
“So have you been in London long?” Carly asked Sean as they settled in to chat. Jack tuned them out, turning to look at Donna instead. She was already looking at him, a half smile on her face.  
“You’re thinking about me,” he said in satisfaction. He sat up, pushing his chest out.  
“I was not,” she said. Her blush made a liar of her. “Okay, so fine, maybe I was. Are you sure we’ve never met before?” she asked him. “You seem so familiar.”  
“Well, I do live in London, maybe you have seen me around.”  
“Eight million people, and you think you stand out?” Donna said. She laughed and sipped on her straw. “You have a bit of an ego on you, bomber man.”  
“Just a bit,” he said with a grin. “You’re the one who looked like you were dreaming of me,” he pointed out. She flushed even more. Now he was even more interested. Had she been daydreaming of him? Or maybe at night she had dreamt of him? He imagined her, white flowing nightgown, red hair curled over cream pillows, and then imagined himself next to her.  
“Bomber boy,” her voice crooned. “Bomber boy,” he blinked in surprise. She was glaring at him, trying to call his attention back to the pub. “Back yet? Where did you disappear off to?” she demanded. “What sort of a conversation do you call this?’  
“Ahhh…” he said. He was off kilter yet again. It was a heady feeling. “I ahhh… usually I’m much better at talking to people,” he tried to explain.  
“Yeah, I expect you are,” she agreed. “So what a man like you doing in a bar like this?”  
“I’m working on a case for a friend. He’s hunting down some data on temporal disturbances along the river,” he said without thinking. She started to laugh at him.  
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, but you just said temporal disturbances, like… there’s problems in time or somethin’?” her voice trailed away as he failed to laugh with her. He snapped his mouth shut. She blinked at him in surprise. “You’re not saying … you’re not… did you mean what you said?”  
“Yeah, I did,” he said, letting his head drop. He stared at his hands for a moment. Sean and Carly were still deep in conversation, and he could only hope they hadn’t heard a word.  
“But that’s not for real, mate. That’s not real. So what are you really here for?”  
“I’m searching for someone. Something. I don’t quite know.” Talking about his work would keep him from making mistakes. He hoped.  
“Now that sounds a lot more interesting,” she said. “What sort of person or thing? How are you looking for it when you’re here, chattin’ up me?”  
“It’s a friend in need. I need help finding out what’s going on. I took the chance -,” he looked up. “I took the chance you might like to come on an adventure with me.” His hands locked together.  
“An adventure? Me? What bloody good would I be on an adventure?” she asked. Her green eyes were fastened to his.  
“Oh, come now,” he said, and relaxed back into the chair. He had her. She was interested. He crossed his legs at the ankles.  
“You need someon’ who can type a hundred words a minute, what sort of adventure would that be?”  
“Traipsing around in the dark. Danger. Possible death. A chance for some excitement, perhaps?” He was teasing, spinning things out slowly and deliberately. The more he could get her talking, the more she would be up for the challenge.  
“What makes you think I’d like more excitement in my life? Maybe I have enough excitement already,” she said, thumping her glass down on the newspaper. “You’re making a lot of assumptions, bomber boy.”  
“I know. I am in a hurry. The problems are occurring along your street. I need a native guide, Donna. Meeting you was pure luck,” he said.  
“Well, it’s a good thing I got promoted only last week,” she said, her words bitter.  
“Promoted?” he asked. “I heard your toasts but …”  
“I’ve been ‘let go,” she said, her fingers forming quotation marks. “’Terminated.’ This was a new one – ‘free to explore my own possibilities,’” she snorted, and took another drink. “Didn’t know what hit ‘em. I showed them,” she muttered into her drink, her gaze lowered. “Pack o’ lying rats, the lot of ‘em.”  
“Come on,” he said, standing up. He put his hand out to her. She stared at his hand.  
“What for?’ she demanded.  
“Let’s go for a walk. I’ll tell you more of the problems.”  
“I came to catch up with Carly –,“ she said, turning to her friend. Carly waved at her, deep in conversation with Sean. After a second, she put her hand into his. He tugged her up with a little too much force, and she crashed into him as he pulled her from the chair. He steadied her, delighted at the feel of her against the length of him.  
“Calm down, Bomberboy,” she said, peeling herself off him and dusting her hips.  
“Please, Bomberman at least,” he said, raising his hands imploringly. She picked up her jacket, and giggled.  
“Bomberman,” she said and giggled again. “Like the old computer game?” She handed him his own jacket and he sighed.  
“Jack, perhaps. Call me Jack. Call me Captain Jack.”  
“Captain Jack? Captain of what?” she asked as she waved goodbye to Carly.  
“I’m a pilot,” he said. “I’ve flown all sorts of craft.” Outside the rain has settled into a steady drizzle. Tiny droplets settled into Donna’s red hair like diamonds. He reached out and touched one with a fingertip, smearing the drop into a drip, and his finger followed the line of curl around her face.  
“You’re a bit of a touchy feeling thing, aren’t you?” she said, her voice soft in wonder. She wasn’t afraid at all. She just stood still, accepting his almost touch. He breathed out, loosening his breath in a sudden exhalation.  
“I can be,” he said, realising that once again they were so close he could just bend down and…  
“What are you waiting for?” she said, her voice was uncharacteristically soft.  
“You’ll tell me when, and where,” he whispered.  
“Right here,” she whispered back. “Right now,” her gaze dared him. He closed his eyes and leaned down, the only point of contact between them the softness of her lips against his. His heart drowned out everything else. He shook with self-control, inhaling the scent of her and feeling her warmth. His mind sought out tiny details to remember, the quickening of her breath, the movement of her chest as she too waited… for something unnamed.  
He drew back, opening his eyes to look into hers.  
“Was that everything you wished for, ma’am?” he asked, glad his voice was firm.  
“That’ll do for now,” she seemed equally shaken. But when they started walking again, their fingers were entwined.  
“So what are we investigating again?” she asked as they walked down the road.  
“Is that a polite way of asking what’s a boy like me doing in Chiswick?” he said and laughed.  
“Boy?” Donna said and leaned into him, smiling up at him. “I thought you’d sorted me out on that issue,” she said.  
“I thought I had too. Maybe I need to sort myself out on that issue,” he said in mild amusement. “We’re looking for the originator of strange noises and things that go bump in the night,” he told her.  
“Oooo, is this like a horror movie then? Where I get to scream and squeal and grasp your knee so tightly you complain about it?” she said with enthusiasm. He grinned at her.  
“Only if I’m lucky,” he said.  
“I thought you were always lucky, Bomberboy,” she said. He gave her a glance but didn’t respond.  
“Down at Chiswick house. Down the back, there are some weird things happening. One of my friends called me about it.” The air was bracing, their breaths visible in the drizzle. He ran his hand through damp hair.  
“I missed this when I was in New York,” he said. “It wasn’t like London at all. Lots of people, but nothing like home.”  
“I’ve never been anywhere,” Donna said. Jack was silent, wishing he could say something but unable to find the right words.  
“Here we are,” he said as they turned another corner. “Chiswick House.” Down the end of the lane he could see the beginnings of the Chiswick House property.  
“We used to come here as a kid,” she said. “Actually, we used to come this particular way, so we could sneak into the back gardens. They had apple trees and pears trees with little plaques, saying things like “Established 1870” and junk like that. Still tasted good but.”  
“You’ve lived in Chiswick your entire life?” he asked. He tried to blow a smoke ring, but walking through the resulting misty tendrils broke it.  
“I went to Strathclyde once,” she said with a twisted grin. “I was a bit ambitious – I was only six at the time,” she seemed amused by her younger self. “I was a bit headstrong back then.”  
“Back then? Like you’re not headstrong any more?” he laughed at her.  
“What would you know, bomber boy?” she asked, and her hand squeezed his tightly. “I am shy, meek and retiring.” They both laughed.  
“I can’t think of any other shy, meek or retiring lass quite like yourself,” he said. Holding her hand was warming more than just his palm. They got to the park and paused to absorb the beauty before them.  
“I never noticed this as a kid,” she said. “It’s so beautiful. Just beautiful.” Magnificent trees stretched above them, spindly twigs reaching for the clouds. Leaves covered the grass before them, and she kicked some of them to see the colours dance before her.  
“I didn’t expect our second date to end up being a picnic,” he said, drawing a deep breath and looking down the avenue of trees.  
“Did you bring something to eat, then?” she asked.  
“I’ve got this,” he said and pulled a chocolate bar from his jacket pocket. “Does this count?” She laughed and their heads bent together as they fiddled with the chocolate, hindering more than helping but making them laugh so hard he was left gasping.  
“Gottit,” she said in satisfaction, pulling away with the bulk of the chocolate bar.  
“I’d wrestle you for that,” he followed her a step behind.  
“Dare you to,” she threw over her shoulder at him. He grinned, readying to tackle her so he would be her landing cushion.  
“I didn’t mean it!” she shrieked and ran forward a few more paces, and then leaned against a tree, gasping and laughing. “Don’t you dare!” she punctuated each word with a gasp. He bounced up to her, grasping the tree around her.  
“Dare me to what?” he asked, his breathing already evened out. She stood up, and rolled her eyes at him.  
“I never said it,” she said, lying with glee. “I never did! You can’t prove a thing!”  
“I can’t, now, can I?” he said, his gaze moving from her flushed cheeks to her mouth, talking too fast again.  
“Well are you going to stand around all day or are you going to hurry up and kiss me?” she said. He paused, once again a whirl of insecurity and desire. He bent to taste her.  
“Close your eyes,” she whispered. He would follow any order she gave. He did so, glad that this time his arms were already around her. It was easy to slip his hands from the tree and … then she opened her mouth, and her tongue slipped against his mouth. He forgot the tree.  
“You taste like chocolate,” he said, breaking their kiss long enough to lift a hand to her skin.  
“Enough talking,” she said. Her hands ran up his back, then under his arms and her cold fingers burned his face. He froze, reminded of too many frozen bodies from his past, but her mouth was hot and melted his reserve. His wrists knocked her hands from him as he deepened the kiss, thrusting a knee between her thighs and pressing her into the tree. Her moan was music to him; an assent and a meeting of desire. He wanted to slow down and savour her, but every part of him demanded all of her, and all of her right this instant. He consumed her, tasting, licking, nipping and leaving her breathless with hunger. His hands sucked the warmth from her cheeks, but his kisses brought the flush of desire. Her green eyes became moss colour as she met his mouth with her own, curving her body around his. He slowed down, his thumbs resting around the curve of her cheekbones, and struggled to find sanity, thought, or even sentience.  
“Why did you stop,” she asked, breathless.  
“We’re in a park,” he whispered, pressing her against him and his mouth against her ear. “There’s children coming, I can hear them,” he closed his eyes and drowned in the scent of her hair.  
“I can’t hear anything,” she said. “But I’m nice and warm right here.” He could feel the movement of her ribcage as she chuckled. His hands slipped from her face and down to her waist, then around her. He pulled her so tightly against him she squeaked. He let her go.  
“Now I’m cold,” she complained, smiling. He rolled his eyes at her, but tucked his hands firmly behind his back. His coat hung open, and he hoped she was admiring his chest. He grinned, and puffed a little. She looked – all the way up and all the way down, and then stepped against him, her hands sliding under the coat.  
“Whoa!” he said in surprise. Behind him he could hear the delighted shrieks of kids running around the park.  
“Shhh, I am sure I’m allowed snuggling after a kiss like that,” she said to his shoulder. He let his arms come forward, and held her tightly again. Strands of red hair blew across his nose. He’d been stupid before. He should have appreciated the treasure in his arms more. He drew on her strength the way she was drawing on his warmth. A lifeline. Sanctuary. This situation was getting dangerous. Yet he still could not bring himself to say anything that could change this moment.  
“So, now that we’re here, let’s go looking for whatever you said you were looking for,” she was the first one to speak. He let her go, and their hands found each other again. He smiled down at the ground, glad he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to let go.  
“Some strange noises… we have to go down the back of the building itself, and then about four paces to the west. Apparently, it’s complicated,” Jack said, looking into the distance to the House.  
“Complicated?” she asked as they started walking.  
“Well, when he rang me, I heard the noises clearly through the telephone, but he said that to him, it was faint, whispery type of thing. But I heard it more clearly than I can hear you,” he darted her a glance. “I heard it calling my name. That was creepy.”  
“So it’s making words then, a human voice?” she asked.  
“Yes. Singing. Demanding rum. Some very odd demands. I have no ideas, no theories until I’ve been to investigate this myself.” She nodded in understanding. They walked in companionable silence until they came to the building. From this angle, all she could see was one long white wall. Up close she could see the dents and cracks in it from Time. They wandered about, looking for the exact spot.  
“Wait!” Jack’s grip on her tightened. They both froze. “I can hear something,” he said, cocking his head to listen.  
“What is it?” she asked.  
“It sounds like… shouting. Hang on… there’s singing… can you hear anything?” Jack asked, frowning. Donna shook her head.  
“Nowt, nothing, nada. Can’t hear a thing,’ she shook her head. “Waitaminute… I heard something … when I look this way..” she turned around, facing her head in the same direction as jack. “Just not clearly.”  
“I can hear it pretty clearly. He can’t sing at all,” Jack said morosely. The person sounded drunk – or wishing they were drunk. Rum and pirates? The voice was lapsing into a melancholy story about pirates and… rum? “I have an idea,” he said, and grasped Donna around the waist and lifted her up. They stared at each other, eye to eye.  
“A pirate’s life for me? I always thought that was some sort of metaphor,” she said, her accent showing the more distracted she was.  
“So you can hear it – up here. You’re facing east and I’m facing west but we can both still here it.”  
“Captain Jack, Captain Jack, knitted the hair from his back, rode two turtles from the sea, damn your eyes what a God was he…”  
“Please put me down. You were right about his musical talent,” she said, and slithered down him. “There were some benefits to that, but just…’ she shook her head, “not enough.” She crinkled her nose. “Why is he singing your name?”  
“I have no clue,” he said, listening to the slurring voice. “That’s why Julia thought to ring me.” He twisted about, taking a few steps forward and then backwards. “My friend said the first time he heard it, the voice was a lot quieter. Now it’s much louder. So it’s getting stronger, whatever is happening.” Donna shivered, sticking her hands deep into her pockets.  
“Maybe this is a ghost story,” she said. “Maybe someone was killed here, and they’re haunting this very spot. Can I grab your knee and start squealing soon?” she gave him a smile.  
“Any time, Donna Noble, any time,” he grinned back. “But this particular ghost is also turning up somewhere else too. Two places at once.”  
“Two places? I didn’t know ghosts could do that,” Donna said.  
“They can’t, that’s why I am thinking it’s not a ghost.”  
“You seem very certain of that,” she noted. He gave her a grin for a reply.  
“I’ll come back later and see if I can record this. I didn’t think it would be so easy to find,” he said, looking around. He should be able to locate this spot again with his eyes closed.  
“Would you like to come to the second place? It’s right near my friend’s home,” he said. “I can get my recording equipment. She’s left the boat to me for a few days while she’s in France.”  
“Boat?” Donna sounded… curious? Horrified? Both?  
“Houseboat,” he said, trying to offset any fears she might have with authority in his voice.  
“Houseboat… you sleep in a houseboat?” she sounded like she didn’t quite believe him.  
“Yes, I’m staying at Julia’s house. Are you coming along?”  
“House boat,” she said, as though testing each word. “House. Boat. Jack. Captain. Donna. Noble.” She looked thoughtful.  
“Ahhhh… yes…” was he going to lose her now? Over something he had no idea would upset her? Was she upset? He couldn’t tell. She was definitely adding import to her words…  
“Yo hoooooo! A pirate’s life for me,” someone slurred away. “House boat? What’s a bloody damned houseboat?” Jack frowned.  
“Did you hear that?” he asked. She shook her head. “The voice – it said something about house boats.”  
“Is it like a mansion? Full o’ rum, on a boat? Makes keeping an even keel a bit difficult,” the voice ruminated. “Like one o’ them flat ones up the river maybe. Got a whole casino on one o’ those. Full o’ rum. Good casino, that.”  
“Now it’s wondering if it’s full of rum,” Jack said. “This really does sound like an old friend of mine. I think we should go and get some of my equipment as soon as we can. You still up for a bit more adventure?” he asked, putting his hand out to her.  
“Of course!” she exclaimed, putting her hand into his. The trust in her eyes made him pause to savour.  
“Then let’s go,” he said with a grin. “I expect your friends are wondering where we are by now,” he said.  
“Oh, Carly knows I can take care of myself,” Donna said, swinging their hands between them. “Meek and mild women like me know how to do that sort of thing.”


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Courting Donna  
> Author: Callisto Shampoo  
> Rating: I think any one who is reading knows what is coming... eventually LOL  
> Length: 2500  
> Pairing(s)/Character(s): Jack Harkness/Donna/Jack Sparrow  
> Genre/Category: humour, sex  
> Warnings: Sex, threesome, AU.  
> Spoilers: Yeah, starts off after the last episode with Donna at the end of season ... um.. four?  
> Summary: Donna meets a handsome stranger in a pub. Things get stranger.

“Oh, Carly knows I can take care of myself,” Donna said, swinging their hands between them. “Meek and mild women like me know how to do that sort of thing.”

His Mercedes was back at the pub, tucked down a side street. She giggled when she saw it.

“I’m datin’ a man with a Merc?” she gasped, her mouth hanging open.

“I’m borrowing it…” he said weakly.

“And you’re fibbing,” she said, running a hand along the bonnet. “It’s a dream machine,” she said. “Of course it’s black,” she murmured to herself. He pretended not to hear. She draped herself across it.

“Would you buy a car with me for a sales model?” she asked. She raised her eyebrows at him suggestively.

“What, a free Donna with every car?” he asked as he unlocked the car.

“Well, yeah! Free something, anyway!” She flung the door open, bouncing into it with great enthusiasm. “Oh my GAWD, it’s so huge in here!” He swung into the car, resisting the urge to say anything referring to the TARDIS.

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” he finally found an answer. She nudged him with her shoulder, hanging in the back seat to explore.

“Oooo, look, it’s got cigarette lighters in the back! Definitely not designed with a family in mind!”

“Donna, could you – “ He found himself talking to her arse. His own eyebrows rose. He could just reach up and cup…

“And, wow, lookie, I found this,” she sat back into her chair, hair wild and flushed. His eyes were drawn to the blue and white block in her hand. “More chocolate! Knew you’d be prepared. A true scout type, you,” she said, ripping the wrapper off. He sighed, his mouth pulling into a one sided grin, and turned the key.

“Ooooo, feeeeeeeel that,” she wriggled into her chair, mouth full of chocolate, and pulled the seatbelt across herself. He swallowed as he watched her wriggle. Maybe he should have let her drive. The memory of her mouth against his rose unbidden, and he strangled a moan. He looked into the mirrors and discovered it was turned away. Donna gave him a cheeky grin, and turned it randomly back towards him. He sorted it out while she started pointing out parts of the street.

“And that’s Carly’s car, I hope she’s fine being dumped with that boring guy she picked up the other night, he really did seem like a complete drip, I tell ya, like my last three bosses really,” she burbled as he pulled out of the bay, the car purring under his finger tips. He resisted the urge to take her for a wild ride, keeping the speed low and watching every law in the book. He jumped when a bar of half eaten chocolate appeared in front of his face.

“What?” he asked, and found his mouth full. He bit, giving her a mute look of … something.

“I thought I should share, y’know, since I did kinda steal the chocolate…” she mumbled into her lap. He laughed.

“It’s fine, you can eat it all,” he said with a laugh, his gaze returning to the road. “You can give me some later – but with some warning next time.”

“Look!” she cried out. “There’ my house!” She waved at the building as they sailed past. He took a look, as expected. “I grew up there,” she said. “Sometimes I think I’ll never get away from it,” she was frowning slightly.

“You never know, your time might still come.” He said, lifting one hand from the wheel to pat her knee. Her hand rested on his, effectively trapping and welcoming him.

“Time, time, time,” she said, leaning her head against the glass. “It seems to be a recurring topic of my dreams.”

“What sort of dreams do you have?” he asked, leaving his hand right where it was until he had to change gears again.

“Well, there’s this dark haired man, see,” she said, darting him a glance. He could feel her gaze on his hair. “He’s a bit skinnier than you,” she said next. He grinned, thinking she was checking out his shoulders again. She smacked his bicep.

“Oh, stop it!” she said. He looked her way. From her faint blush, he bet himself he had been right.

“What, you weren’t checking me out then?” he asked as he turned another corner.

“Despite what you might think, I sometimes do have thoughts other than your naked body,” she said, staring out the window again.

“Naked?” was the only response he could make.

“Stop. Looking. At. Me,” she said. He put his full attention to driving. “So where are we going?” she broke the silence.

“Ahhhh… there’s a spot near the houseboat we can hear that voice again, plus the equipment is on the boat,” he took a moment to remember what they were doing.

“A houseboat,” she said. She was grinning and shaking her head again. “I always wanted to go on one of those. This will be a fun adventure!” They pulled up into a parking space just metres from the riverside.

“I knew you was a lucky one,” she said as she jumped out of the car. “Which one is it?” she asked, looking down the line of houseboats.

“This one,” he pointed to a blue boat, securely moored only metres from them. Window boxes lined the roof of the boat, some of them with pink flowers and some of them with herbs. The boat was wide and flat, curtains screening away the interior. Blue curtains, in a nautical theme. Which matched the blue paint on the hull.

“I take it your friend like plants?” she asked as she looked at the other boats and seeing them devoid of greenery. “I like it.”

“Yeah, he likes to eat, and he likes to eat well. Thinks he can cook better than most restaurants.” Jack stepped onto the deck, and then held his hand out for Donna. She took it and stepped on, grasping him tightly and laughing as she wobbled.

“Sealegs easy for you, huh?” she asked as he steadied her. “Steady as a rock and all.”

“There’s no waves here,” he said. “Believe me, I’m right over the edge when we’re at sea. This is just a river. Smoothest thing for miles, actually.”

“Given the state of our roads, you’re probably right,” she said with a snort, and let go of his hand. He took the key from his pocket and opened the door.

“Welcome to Julian’s abode,” he said, standing back to let her in. “I won’t go in and welcome you, as there’s not quite enough room for that.”

“Well, not the way you’re waving your arms about,” she said.

“Get in,” he dropped his hands to his side. “Or I shall spank you.”

“I…” she stopped and said nothing. She ducked her head and entered the cabin.

“Was that a dare?” he demanded, holding onto the roof and hanging in the door. “Were you going to dare me to spank you?” His eyes were wide in amusement.

“No,” she said. “I have no idea what I was about to say. I forgot.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. The first room was a lounge room, a couch running along one side and a cupboard on the other. Above the couch was a book shelf that ran the entire length, and the couch was a cushion resting on drawers. A TV sat on the cupboards, next to a phone book, a couple of trinkets and curios, and more books. On the couch was a suitcase, and a jumble of technology.

“Would you like to have a look at the whole boat?” Jack asked, looking down the open door ways. The galley was next, recently modernized and tiny. Pots and pans hung from the roof in front of the window, a tiny microwave sitting on top of a tiny fridge, and a disposable bbq sitting on top of that. The dining room was part of the kitchen, the table slotted against one wall over chairs which once again had cupboards under them. The table was covered with paperwork and a laptop. Other tech was randomly distributed about the place.

“This is where I’m doing the bulk of my work right now,” he said, looking past her to the mess. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to clean up … I wasn’t really expecting company…” he was glad the kitchen was spotless. Just his work areas were a mess. She looked past the table to the bedroom door.

“Is that the…”

“Yes,” he said.

“And the bathroom?” she asked. He reached up to hold onto the roof handrails.

“Yes, it is,” he said. He had been reluctant to show her the bedroom, but she had pointed out something very important. He pushed the door open. It was spotless, except for the quilt on the bed. The bed was central to the room. This was the last living area, and the bed had a foot of clearance on each side and cupboards arched over and around the head. The quilt was thrown back, navy rope designs on blue. He wished he’s thought to put it back in place this morning, but he’d been in such a hurry to leave. And completely distracted too. He tried to get a glimpse of her face, but she was too far ahead of him. She stepped into the bedroom and then stepped further in again. She sat on the bed, right where he had been asleep only hours before, and ran her hand along the 1,000 count sheets. In blue, of course. Julian could be a bit focused when it came to decorating. She didn’t look at him, though she was now turned his way. She breathed deeply, and he hoped she was enjoying the scent of him. He tightened his grip on the roof, wishing he could just sit next to her. Any one else, he would have. But Donna he wanted to play carefully. Terrified that if she might leave he would never see her again. The rules were all topsy turvy, just like his concentration. She was looking at him, considering. She was thinking about him. Naked? Was she thinking of him naked? Now he was thinking of her naked. On those blue one thousand count sheets. Her fair skin, rosy on blue sheets.

“What if I said right here, right now big boy? What would you do?” she asked. She was so serious. No room for jokes right now. He caught his breath.

“Whatever you told me to,” he said with equal seriousness. She gave a mirthless laugh.

“You confuse me,” she said, giving her head a little shake. “Where’s the ladies?” Brought back to earth with a resounding crash, he pointed to the corner where the shower cubicle was tucked away, behind a cupboard door. He shut the bedroom door when she stood up, needing a moment.

He went to the kitchen, taking a bottle of water from the fridge and then opening the curtains to stare outside. People walked past, their feet at eye height, and he cursed himself for a fool. He should leave. Leave her on her doorstep, go right now. This was a fool’s errand, he should have sent Ianto. Why had he come? Why had he done everything he could, that he might stand here drinking cold water while she was far too close to a bed he had lain on. The cold water was a shock to his over heated system, forcing him to slow down and focus on the physical.

The door opened, and he didn’t look. Then cold hands slid up the back of his shirt, ice against skin, and he closed his eyes with a tremor.

Because he could never stay away from this. That’s why he was here. He was the fool, on a fool’s errand. He should never have let her go when he hugged her on the TARDIS. Her nails drew down his back, and he shivered again. She reached around him and took his hand. He opened his eyes as she gave him a gentle tug. He looked down into her green eyes and let her pull him from the kitchen. To the bed room. He couldn’t laugh, or make a joke. He’d never felt so serious before in his entire life.

Was this wise? He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. But she had trusted him so often in the two days they had known each other. It was his turn to trust her. He was so used to leading people into the bedroom that he had no idea what to do when he was being led. He rolled his eyes at himself, and she pushed him down so he sat on the bed.

“Now then, you were showing me all the sites to see on this boat,” she said, and straddled his knees. He blinked. She was sitting, thighs spread wide, on his knees, both of them still in their jeans, and talking. Talking. He blinked again. His hands were behind him, palms spread on the mattress. He should have grabbed her when she sat on him. He should have taken control. He should have… “I saw the shower,” she said, hooking her hands onto his shoulders. “And this is a lovely little home for a person,” she grinned. “I saw your photo by the phone book – close friend of yours, is he?” He tried to moisten his dried mouth, and then to speak.

“Donna,” he said. “I can’t think when you’re bouncing up and down right there,” his voice was squeaky and high.

“I didn’t think you could,” she grinned, taking delight in his distraction. His hands came around to her waist, and held her tightly.

“I can’t think of anything I haven’t shown you…”

“You know, those hand rails up there could be very useful… if you get my meaning,” she said, looking up at the roof corner, and then back down to him. He looked up and blinked again. Instantly flashes of all sorts of bad ideas came to him. His eyes widened.

“For a man of the world, you can be easily distracted,” she said, and her mouth was at his jaw.

“But – I – Donna! You don’t play fair!” he managed to say before his hands slid down to cup her buttocks, and he pulled her tightly against him. “Really, you don’t,” he mumbled before turning his face to her. “Kiss me?” he said.

“You talk too much,” she said before she did, pressing her mouth against hers and taking the time to explore the corners of his mouth before she deepened the kiss. He kept his hands still on her waist as she took her pleasure of him.


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Courting Donna  
> Author: Callisto Shampoo  
> Rating: I think any one who is reading knows what is coming... eventually LOL  
> Length: 2600  
> Pairing(s)/Character(s): Jack Harkness/Donna/Jack Sparrow  
> Genre/Category: humour, sex  
> Warnings: Sex, threesome, AU.  
> Spoilers: Yeah, starts off after the last episode with Donna at the end of season ... um.. four?  
> Summary: Donna meets a handsome stranger in a pub. Things get stranger.

“You talk too much,” she said before she did, pressing her mouth against hers and taking the time to explore the corners of his mouth before she deepened the kiss. He kept his hands still on her waist as she took her pleasure of him. He let himself fall… back into the bed. She laughed as they crashed together, and he pushed her legs down so she was flush against him.

“Now that’s what I call takin’ charge,” he drawled as she began to nibble his jaw, finding his secret spot way too fast. “Whoa! It takes people ages…” he gritted his teeth as she tickled it with her tongue. He gargled for a while instead of speaking, gave upon verbalisation altogether and put both hands on her butt cheeks and turned his face to kiss her.

“Listen, Captain Beard-rash, pirate of the nether seas, you can keep that gravely chin of yours…” she was talking again. He tightened his grip, and flipped her over, pinning her into the bed. The entire boat rocked.

“Now that’s more like it,” she breathed deeply against him, pressing her belly and chest against him. He stopped her talking the old fashioned way. She tasted like gin and tonic, making him thirsty. He raised his weight with his knees and elbows, so she wouldn’t be too crushed, but her hands pulled him back down against her, guiding his pelvis against hers. His appreciation for her was already hard, and the friction between them was mind melting. She met each of his kisses, demanding more every time. She hooked her ankles around his back again, and pushed against him. He was hot. Too hot. He wanted to take his shirt off, or at least his jacket. He pulled himself out of his reach, kneeling between her thighs to take off the jacket. Her eyes were mossy, and her gaze was explored the line of him under his shirt. She could take it off him, he decided, crashing back onto his elbow above her, when she was ready. He just had to make her want to. She circumvented the whole decision by sliding her hands under his shirt while his mouth went back to hers. Her hands were always so cold! He shuddered over her while her fingers slid along his rib cage, then she ground her palms into his pectorals. He nested his hips against hers again, still drowning in the taste of her.

He rested on one elbow while he explored her curves with his hand, the way her breast fit perfectly into his palm, the softness of her skin and the unwelcome distraction of clothes. He hooked a finger into her jeans and slid his hand around, exploring the softness of her skin. She writhed under his hands as his fingers moved back to her breast. He wanted to slip his hand under her shirt, but he hesitated, unsure for a brief second whether he wanted to lead her more. Already he felt guilty that he was taking control; pushing his own will onto her.

“Stop thinking, and snog me!” she said in frustration. He grinned. He had been staring into her eyes again, lost in their depths. And the sensations his hands were exploring.

“Fine,” he said with a sigh, “Demanding woman,” he said, admiration in his voice.

“I’m sure we don’t have much time,” she said, lying back in the bed. “Take your shirt off,” she instructed. He paused, but then knelt back and ripped it off and flung it somewhere. He didn’t know where; his eyes were trapped.

“Tit for tat,” he dared, the challenge alight in his eyes.

“Does that make me the tit or the tat,” she griped. “Take it off me. I dare ya,” she said, and tried to clamp her arms against her ribs. Her eyes were laughing, and she was biting her lip. He stayed above her, his hands spread in the air as he surveyed the giggling red head beneath him.

“Defiant to the end?” he asked.

“This is the end?” she said in mock disappointment. “And I thought there would be some… big… climax….” She laughed, a free and happy sound which made him join in.

“You doubt me again?” he asked, scooping his arms down, between her legs and under her buttocks and supporting her back as he lifted her. “You should know better than that, surely,” he dumped her on her belly across the bed in front of him.

“If you’re as strong as you seem to be, we might never get out of this bed room,” she threw her head back as he straddled her butt. She put her arms forward to try and lift their weight. He waited a second; the rock of the boat helped him as he crushed her back into the bed and they rolled so she was on top of him again. His hands grasped her shirt at her waist, and pulled up. Before she could even stop him, it was over her head and gone to the same place as his shirt.

“That wasn’t playing fair,” she grinned as she turned over on top of him. He took in the creamy curves and lacy green bra.

“Fair? We have to be fair?” he asked, and stretched out under her. He folded his hands behind his head.

“This is like riding a pony,” she said as she found her balance.

“A horse, thank you,” he said, and then she threw her head back to laugh.

“I knew you would say that,” she said, her hands now at her belt. He bucked, and she tightened her thighs around him.

“I was a champion at the pony club,” she giggled. “Never been thrown by a pony ever,” she said.

“I’m not a pony –,” he tried to say as her hands pulled his belt buckle open, and then went to his fly. “Donna –,” he yelped and grabbed her wrists.

“Am I going too fast for you, big boy?” she paused. Her eyes were quizzical. She wasn’t sure if she should be jesting or serious, and he wasn’t sure either.

“Donna,” he ground his teeth in frustration. “You make me… everything and nothing,” he said. She let a hand stroke his erection.

“Sure this needs to be free,” she cocked her head, her humour returning. “I can think of a few good uses for a truncheon like this…” she giggled, blushing. He didn’t move, so she wriggled forward a few inches. If it wasn’t for far too many pairs of jeans, they could have been…

“Donna!” he couldn’t think. His grip on her wrists tightened. She bit her lip again, her eyes fastened on his, and began to lean back, using his grip on her as the balance point. If he let go she would fall. She was sliding the junction of her thighs along his erection in a long, slow, sinuous grind. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back as he enjoyed the tease. If he’d known she was such a tease he’d have hugged her much more tightly on the TARDIS.

“I can slow down if you like, big boy,” she threatened. He turned his head, unable to respond. She started to slide backwards.

“Donna,” he rasped. “Kiss me, dammit,” he turned to her and opened his eyes. She looked at her wrists, still firmly trapped in his. He had forgotten, and let go. Her fingers had caused white marks, which turned quickly red. “Donna, I’m sorry,” he sain in genuine horror. She shrugged as she lay down across him.

“I’ve got fair skin. It happens more often than you would think.” Now she was gentle, taking the time to run her fingertips from his cleft along his jaw line before following the trail with kisses. He caught a finger in his mouth and sucked it, ticking the tip with his tongue before sucking it deep into his mouth. She closed her eyes and moaned. Delighted to find a weak point on her, he began to make love to her fingers with his tongue, taking two fingers deep into his mouth, and then three.

“Gawds, flyboy,” she moaned. “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re doing it,” she let her head fall to his shoulder while she gave herself over to him. His hand reached up to cup her face again, and his thumb smoothed her lower lip while he twisted his tongue between her fingers, again and again.

“Call me Jack,” he suggested. Her eyes were closed, but she jerked as though he had surprised her.

“You talk too much,” she said, pulling her fingers from his mouth and pressing her own to his. She tried to make him roll over, but he resisted for a moment, until she began to dig her nails into his biceps. He gave in, settling himself right where he wanted to be, firmly between her thighs. He began to explore the bra, feeling the sleek material and the warmth within. He arched over her slowly, kissing her with all seriousness and wondering where this might be leading them. Her hands were firm on his flesh, leaving hot trails. Her hands had finally warmed up, and she lightly traced the play of muscle along his shoulders and back. She was warm and receptive to him, accepting every thrust of his tongue and lick of pleasure. The boat rocked around them. His slid his fingers under the strap of her bra, and then around and unhooked the bra with one hand. She stopped kissing him and blinked at him for a second.

He went to continue their kiss, but she turned away.

“Stop,” she said.

“What?” he said in surprise, freezing instantly.

“Stop.” He blinked back at her, bit his lip and rolled off her, falling off the bed and landing with a crash. “Dammit,” he put a hand to his head. Her concerned face appeared above him.

“You alright down there?” she asked, breathless.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled.

“You don’t look fine,” she said, surveying the mess of him. The space was so cramped he had one foot on the bed, his head was at an odd angle, and he was half leaning against a set of drawers.

“Okay, so that was probably the most graceless exit off a bed I have ever managed,” he said, closing his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, she had hooked her bra back up. Sudden fear overwhelmed him. He had gone too far. Was she upset? Angry? Afraid? He heard the chattering of something distant.

“Donna?” he said.

“I … ah… maybe I was … hmm,” she muttered, disappearing from view as she went to find her shirt. She was turned away, pulling it over her head as he pulled himself up. The voices he could hear were important, but something else was far more important.

“Are you angry with me?” he asked softly as he tried to spot his own clothes. She shook her head, but still would not look at him. “Is my shirt over there too?” he asked, hoping the mundane question would make her face him. She found it at her feet, and threw it to him, turning to do so. She didn’t look angry. She looked aroused. Her eyes were intense, and her mouth rich raspberry red. She shook her head. She looked him up and down, and ran both hands through her hair.

“Are you?” she asked. He cocked his head at her.

“No. Should I be?” he frowned. His erection might drive him crazy in the next twenty-four hours, but that was is problem. He pulled the shirt on over him. He was still breathing too quickly. He tried to slow it down, uncertain of what had triggered the abrupt change of plans.

“I’m sorry,” he said once he was dressed. She was still avoiding looking at him. “I went too far, too fast.”

“I feel so stupid,” she admitted, lifting the curtain nearest her to look out the window. “I just..”

“It’s fine,” he said. “It happens sometimes.”

“Not usually to you, eh flyboy?” she asked with a semblance of herself. He ran a hand through his hair and was pleased his breath was even again already.

“Well…. It does happen,” he said, his brain catching up with him. “Oh dear God, did I really hear that?” he dropped back to the floor, and pressed his ear to the wooden panelling.

“What?” Donna knelt on the bed to lean over and see what he was doing. “What are you doing?”

“I heard more singing. About rum,” he said as he pressed the panels, wondering if any were lose. Donna laughed in genuine amusement.

“You really are quite an unusual man,” she said thoughtfully. He grinned up at her.

“I’m one of a kind,” he said, getting back to his feet. “Let’s check out the engine room. The lower I got, the clearer it was. And I have all my equipment here too,” he stretched and grinned. "Tell me I’m a god,” he said, wishing his erection was so easy to instruct.

“You’re a god,” she said, staring at his belly. He pulled his shirt back down, feeling oddly vulnerable. His mouth was still kiss swollen and he rubbed at his face.

“Coffee? Water?” he asked as he passed through the galley to the living area. The tangle of tech was pulled into more useful pieces, and he began to set up the calibrations unit.

“What’s that then?” she settled on the couch on the far side of the wires and boxes. He felt a moment of pain that she hadn’t chosen to sit next to him, but tried to dismiss that too. His heart was hurting. Had he just lost her? Without even seeing it coming? Had he blown everything?

“The chronocalibration unit? It picks out weirdness in the timelines. Timey wimey stuff, I guess,” he said, shooting her a glance to see if she recognized the phrase. She still looked blank, flushed and completely desirable. He wanted to lick the corners of her mouth and then plunder her for everything he could get. This mile was taking years to run. “It’ll tell us where to pick up the strongest time disturbance, and then maybe we can do something about our drunk, ghostly friend.”

“Do what?” she asked, reaching out to touch one of the boxes. He had already hooked it up to some of the other units.

“Well, even just talking to him might help. Or perhaps send him home. Or bring him through to here. His presence is causing problems in time and relative dimensions on earth.” He wondered if any of this would trigger any thing in her memories. She didn’t look interested or anything. He focused on the work at hand. Otherwise he’d just sit here, a stew of hormones and desire, imagining every inch of her fair skin and red hair until she slapped him awake. Would she do that? His cheek tingled in suspicion that she would. His gaze dropped back down to the wires. What was he doing again?

“Jack –“ she said, sounding like her throat was dry. His was dry. He could do with a drink. A gin and tonic would be…perfect. “I’m really sorry…” she was trying to apologize again? Without thought, he leaned over the wires and boxes, placing one finger under his chin to bring her mouth to his.

“Shhh,” he said. “It’s okay. You don’t need to worry. Whatever you what. When you want it. I’m all here for you.” She closed her eyes, and melted into his kiss.


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Courting Donna  
> Author: Callisto Shampoo  
> Rating: You'd better have the cigarettes ready!  
> Length: 4800  
> Pairing(s)/Character(s): Jack Harkness/Donna/Jack Sparrow  
> Genre/Category: humour, sex  
> Warnings: Sex, threesome, AU.  
> Spoilers: Yeah, starts off after the last episode with Donna at the end of season four?  
> Summary: Donna meets a handsome stranger in a pub. Things get stranger.

“Shhh,” he said. “It’s okay. You don’t need to worry. Whatever you what. When you want it. I’m all here for you.” She closed her eyes, and melted into his kiss.

“I know that the problem is!” she said excitedly, opening her eyes and pulling away from him. “I need a drink or two in me!”

“What? You broke a kiss to say that?” he said. They stared at each other for a second before they started to laugh again. He gave her a big hug. “there’s no hurry. We have a job to do. Getting this temporal disturbance sorted out would be a good start. The Doctor’s in desperate straight to get back on Earth, and he has no idea what’s stopping him. It’s nice to see him… uncertain,” he said with a grin, bending back to the wiring.

“You say these things like I should know who you’re talking about,” she said slowly, running her hand along the couch next to her. “Sometimes I think I do know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what is more confusing. Like some of the things you say sound like stuff I’ve heard in dreams – or on the telly.” She fidgeted, and then chewed on a nail.

“The Doctor is a friend of mine. You may have heard some of the thing I’m talking about on the teevee,” he agreed cautiously. “There’s all sorts of television shows discussing these sorts of technological advances.” He slotted the last connector in place, and then hefted the device into the air. It looked like a horse’s bridle, the unit devices being the O rings and the wires the leather straps. “Hold this bit for me?” he asked. “This could be a but complex.”

“Where are we going with it?” she asked, taking two of the boxes and he held the other three.

“Engine room,” he explained, standing up. They walked awkwardly towards the steps, and then he ducked around them.

“Cor, I hadn’t even noticed that!” she said as he bumped a door open with his hip.

“No, most people don’t,” he said. “There’s a bit of a drop here, and while I’m happy to have you land on me, the equipment is a bit delicate,” he said, grinning across the wires to her as he took a step downwards. Only two steps to the floor of the engine room. The engine was silent, a black monstrosity set into the floor. The air was damp and oily with the scent of fuel. Donna stepped down after him, equally careful with her full hands. He stepped backwards to the left, and she stepped to the right.

“What do we do with it now?’ she asked. “Lay it over the engine? Why here – not the bedroom?”

“Because Julian told me he heard weird things in his engine room, and I had been distracted before…” he wiggled his eyebrows at her until she laughed. “And never imagined I could hear things down on the floor.”

“Can you hear anything now?” she asked. He nodded, flipping switches and fiddling with the devices.

“I could hear it as I walked in. You didn’t then?” She shook her head.

“It’s squashy in here,” she said. The engine took the bulk of the room, and a single foot of space was available on each side for standing. Jack was on the far side.

“Not much need for a lot of room,” he said absently, finishing with his fiddling. “Right. Now we leave this here for a bit and see what happens.”

“Will it take long?”

“I don’t know. It depends on what’s actually happening. It’ll draw information on the disturbances, and I should be able to draw some conclusions about that. He’s singing again, so it may take as little as ten minutes to get a useful reading.”

“Chatty little ghost, innit?” she said. “Come on, then I could do with a drink of water.” He nodded, waiting for her to get out of the engine room first. His water on the sink would be room temperature by now, and he was also incredibly thirsty. He watched her jeans-clad ass as she pulled herself up the stairs and sighed. He was going to have a difficult night’s sleep tonight, he knew.

Without the junk on the couch, the space was much easier to nestle into. He got her a drink and then sat on the couch. The TV was an easy answer to avoiding conversation, so they watched the news. She snuggled into the crook of his arm, and he inhaled her scent while he ignored the TV show. He wanted to dwell on the feel of her, companionably resting against him, without arguments or challenges or dares. Just being with her. His erection was finally under control, and his urge to rip all of their clothes off was still receding. He would never have imagined he’d have such a difficult time being here.

He drank the rest of his water. He was still thirsty but loath to move. She leaned into him like she belonged there. Maybe she did. Maybe he belonged here. He had to give the boat back to Julian eventually – what on earth would he do then? He sighed and she shifted, turning into him. She lifted her legs over him, and he grinned.

“I can’t seem to get enough of you,” she said, lifting her face to him.

“Me neither,” he said and began kissing her gently. She was across his lap, and he tucked on arm around her legs and kept her against him with his right. Her perfume was intoxicating. He wanted to rush again; rip all his clothes off and make love right on the cupboard. The boat was cramped yet perfect for a lot of evil ideas. Her suggestion of the handrails for example… he moaned. He leaned back and shifted slightly, pulling her butt up on his lap.

“You really like me on top, don’t ya,” she gasped when they paused for breath.

“Maybe it’s an invitation to wrestle,” he suggested.

“But I’ve already won…” she said, running her hand through his hair. He closed his eyes.

“So have I,” he said. “You’re right where I want you,” he grinned. She pressed his head against hers again, and then swung her knees around as tight against him as she could get. His erection pressed between them. He was going to have to get some alone time tonight, or he would be in pain tomorrow. But it felt so good right now.

He put his hands on her hips, and then started to slide them around in long slow circles, around the curve of her pelvis, the indent of her waist and the line of her ribs. He was careful to keep his movements as gentle and slow as he could. His fingers slid against the underside of her breasts, and she gasped and continued to kiss him. Cautiously, he cupped her breasts in her hands. Her nipples pressed through the material of her shirt, drilling into his palms. His nipples were just as hard, and she ran her fingers over them.

“I promise I won’t freak out if you do it again,” she whispered into his ear. The tickle of her breath thrilled him to the core. He slid a hand up and behind, and unhooked her bra. “One handed,” she said. “I love a man who can do,” she was laughing at him. He gave her butt a mild spank. “Is that the best you can do?” she dared. “I’m a bit bored…”

“Bored!” he sat up so suddenly she clung to him in case he dumped her on the floor. She laughed at the look at his face, and he wanted to spank her. “Bored!” His face was firmly in her breasts the straighter he sat up. “Bored,” he said a third time, his words muffled. She arched her back and brought her pelvis against his erection again.

“Okay, so maybe not bored,” she said as she linked her arms around his head. She pressed his face into the firmness of her breasts. He reached up between them, under her shirt, sliding his fingers between their bodies, and once again her nipples were standing to attention in the palms of his hands.

“You feel so good,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I’m not the only one, flyboy,” she ground herself against him again. He melted back into the chair, hoping like crazy that they would finally spend their sexual tension in his favourite daytime activity. She sat back for a minute to slide her bra off while leaving her shirt on, and then kissed him again. She still tasted like gin and tonic. He would have thought he’d kissed that off her by now, and knew he would always associate gin and tonic with her forever. He gave a lazy grin as he considered how other parts of her might taste.

“Hang on,” she whispered, and then she stood up. Disappointment showered him, but then she was unbuckling her jeans and he discovered she was wearing matching emerald green panties. He should close his eyes. He should look away. It was rude to stare – wasn’t it? But his gaze was glued to her belly.

“Do you like them?” she asked, all shy glances suddenly. He reach out, one hand on each hip and pulled her back onto him.

“Like them?” he moaned into her ear. “I would give any of my lives for you, Donna,” he ground his cock against her.

“Any of your lives?” she mumbled, her mouth full of his tongue. He nodded, and then kissed her so thoroughly she forgot they had even been talking.

With her pants gone, he could inhale the very scent of her. She was dizzying, and his kissed took on demanding urgency. She answered every kiss, her hands busy at his belt. Her shirt was still between them, and he wanted to consign it to hell, but he didn’t want to change the stakes between them. He would hopefully be able to look at her all he wanted later. The feel of the zipper opening along the hardness of his cock was exquisite torture. Each link rubbed against the swollen skin. Cold air flowed between them briefly before her hand began to rub against him.

“Oh Donna,” he said, warmth expanding from his cock through his belly.

“Sit back, flyboy,” she said, her voice almost gone. She was breathing fast, and he hurried to do as she instructed. She tried to tug his pants down a bit, enough for his erection to spring free. She slid a finger under the belt of his jocks, the slide of her nail along sensitive skin jolting him into wakefulness.

“I have condoms -,” he said without thinking.

“I’m on the pill,” she replied. He opened his mouth to suggest they use condoms as well, but then she kissed him while her fingers took hold of bare-naked skin and the world imploded. A minute later she pulled his jocks down, out of the way, and her skin was against his and he didn’t quite know what happened next but he was bedded deep in her sweetness and she was curved over him, whispering his name as she moved her hips in slow deep circles. Time no longer existed. He didn’t need a TARDIS, he just needed days of teasing and tormenting and… he never finished that thought. He was too close to spilling himself; he needed to concentrate on anything other than Donna… grinding her quim onto him again and again and again… He shuddered when she leaned back, sheathing him even deeper into her. This was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever hoped for. He could spend eternity buried in her.

“That’s it, right there,” she said. He controlled his impulse to thrust, letting her take him as deep as she wanted. He was a bundle of frustrated energy, wanting to just plunge ahead and fuck until they both come, constrained by his brain insisting he wait, go slow, let her lead…

“I’m close, flyboy, I’m close,” she said, raising passion dusted eyes to his. “On the floor,” she said.

“Floor,” he repeated, and he managed to slide off the couch to his knees, still inside her body. Her knees locked around him and his hands held her buttocks in place. There was barely enough room to lay on the floor, but anything she said, anything she wanted. She pulled him down, on top of her, and she spread even further beneath him.

“If we do this right, I’ll be coming real soon,” she said, already starting to writhe beneath him. Her breathing matched his as he let his wait crush her. She gasped, and grinned before closing her eyes. She was still wearing her underpants, pushed to one side and her bra open but under the shirt. He settled into her pace, watching her as she flushed with pleasure. Her muscles tightened around his cock as they rocked, and her blush extended down, her chest and neck colouring too. Her breathing changed to sudden gasps and her eyes flew wide open as she orgasmed. Her entire body writhed, and he let himself orgasm in her throes. His orgasm washed over him, obliterating anything other than her face, eyes fastened to his. As the orgasm rushed away he slowly came back him self, arms and legs tangled, his full weight on her. She was quiescent, her eyes closed and her head turned away. He kissed the line of her jaw, feeling exhausted.

She turned to him, putting her mouth up for more kisses, and he did so, slowly and gently, feeling the faint hum of post coital glow. He could sleep right now; still buried in her body, warmth against warmth and heart against heart. The underwire in her bra was sticking into his ribs. His elbow was stuck against a cupboard door knob. His back was cold. Slowly, the real world began to make it’s demands on him, and with a sigh he lifted himself slightly from her.

“We could move somewhere a little more comfortable,” he suggested, watching her closely for her response. She smiled at him, and the colour of her lips reminded him of the colour of her body as she had flushed with orgasm. Instantly, his body suggested that they could stay here all afternoon…

“Sure, Captain,” she said, letting him help her to her feet. He tucked himself away and neatened up his clothes, then running his hands through his hair. She was standing in the way, just watching him as he cleaned himself up. Her shirt almost covered her underwear, and he found himself looking for glimpses of it.

“They are beautiful,” he said, pulling her against him and running a finger along the line of her panties.

“I thought I’d better use them before I turned into a spinster,” she said. “Fifty quid these cost, you know. You’d better look at them some more,” she said, stepping away and flashing him. He laughed, and grabbed her against him again.

“You’re touchy feely after sex, Captain,” she said, pulling herself from his arms again and finding her jeans. He was disappointed that she was about to cover herself.

“Call me Jack,” he insisted. “Please.” She gave him a grin through her red hair.

“I’ll call you whatever I want,” she said, thrusting her butt at him as she hooked her buttons. He hesitated, unsure if further contact would be welcome. But if he didn’t try… he slipped his hands around her waist. She leaned into him for a second.

“Don’t I owe you a spanking?” he asked, his mind already filling with images that he would need another twenty minutes to fulfil. She laughed.

“I’m always owed a spanking,” she said. She seemed quiet. She turned in his arms and hooked her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her height and then just holding him. He tightened his grip around her. He never wanted to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her. She nodded.

“Could do with a drink,” she said. “Should we check the machinery before we go?” she asked. She pulled away from him, and he started looking for his shirt.

“Good idea,” he said and headed to the engine room. She followed him but hung in the door way as he examined the readings. He nodded. “A very good idea indeed. Looks like there’s plenty of data here for me to work with,” he collected up the gadgets. She knelt on the couch as he slipped past her to the kitchen table, dumping everything unceremoniously and then turning the laptop on. He would plug it in to download, and then see what happens next.

“Did you hear anything down below?” she asked. He nodded, but kept his mouth closed. “But you won’t tell me what?” she said, frowning. He bit his lip, trying to smother a grin.

“Well, being incorporeal apparently has its uses,” he said.

“It does?”

“You can see a lot of stuff when you’re not real, and people don’t think to check for your presence.”

“Oh. My. God. He didn’t?” her eyes widened in horror and her hands flipped to her mouth. He nodded. “He saw everything?” she gasped. Her blush returned, this time from embarrassment. “And I thought me Mum’s place was a bad idea! This is … worse!” He laughed, though he wanted to be sympathetic.

“Oh, I don’t know, if I was temporally displaced, I’d love to…”

“Stop thinking like a man! Oh my god, how could I ever show my face…”

“Well, you might never actually meet him. Mostly likely we’ll be able to stabilize him and we won’t even need to meet the man.”

“Really?” she asked hopefully. He shrugged. What he had said was true. They might never meet this person who seemed to be spread across almost four hundred years of time. His ears were still buzzing faintly from orgasm, and his blood was hot. His shirt was too warm, too tight, too everything. He pulled on the collar a bit and waited for the machine to boot.

“What was he saying?” she came up to sit on the bench chair. He sat next to her, pulling the table out from the wall. She rested her chin on his shoulder and curled up against him. He put an arm around her.

“He gave us points for inventiveness, and extra points for your coming,” he gave her s wry grin. “He enjoyed the show very much and wished he had more rum.”

“That rum thing is getting a bit old,” she said, her eyes watching the laptop. “So what are your theories? How do we send him away? Or fix the temporal thingy problem?”

“I am thinking that this disturbance is getting stronger over the last few weeks, so something has caused this right now. As far as I can make out, he’s been displaced for about four hundred years, if he is who I think he is. So what’s causing the strength of the signal now? What do I do to fix it?” Jack plugged in the USB cable, and began opening programmes.

“So… can we talk to him?”

“I know he hears me sometimes. He hears us. But he hasn’t really talked to us. I guess he must be used to being considered a ghost and ignored.”

“That’s a bit sad, really. Four hundred years of not really being alive or dead or anything,” she said.

“I’m hoping we can amplify the signal a little, maybe get him to actually communicate instead of just making lewd remarks.”

“He’s making lewd remarks? Maybe we should leave him right where he is,” she grumbled. He chuckled.

“Still won’t get rid of the anomaly if we ignore him.” He started typing in commands as the data ported across. He knew what he was looking for, and a bigger picture was starting to come clear.

“Right. There is something sparking this off. The signals are getting stronger, which means he is too. Actually, they seem strong enough right now for him to make it into corporeality.”

“Corporeality? The real world?” Donna asked. “He could form a body and just… POOF! Appear?” she drew away from him. “Like… at any second?” her voice was starting to rise.

“Well, he hasn’t yet,” he pointed out. “But the readings are strong enough that he could. It would be rather handy from my point of view that he was corporeal, so I can find out what he’s done to end up in this state.”

“He was snooping on my arse!” she stared at him. “He was snooping on yours too! Doesn’t that worry you at all? Making the pervert into real? He won’t be no ghostly nothing then!”

“You could slap him for sneaking,” he gave her a grin.

“I could slap you for sneaking,” she muttered but settled back against him. “I could slap him six ways to Sunday for being a pain in the…” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she grinned back.

“You promised me food,” she reminded him.

“You’re right, I did,” he said. “There’s a really lovely pub just up the road…” he suggested. She laughed and nodded. 

“We’ll see how Carly and Seany went, shall we?” She took his hand, and snuggled into him. “Not as much fun as we had, I bet,” she said.

“The thing is, he should have formed a body again by now. Looking at these stats, he’s had more than enough of the energy to do so, and more than enough space, time, and everything.” He pushed the table back out of the way, and found their jackets. He handed hers to her, realising that outside the boat was darkness.

“What time is it?” he said, realising the hours had slipped away somewhere.

“Time for a ghost story,” she said with a smile. “Dinner time.” He stretched, bracing himself for the cold air outside.

“Come on then,” he said, taking her hand.

“Should we leave this mess?” she asked, gesturing to the pile of wires and units.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he said, drawing her to the stairs.

Sean and Carly had gone by the time they got back to the bar.

“Ah well, I am sure we can amuse ourselves,” she said, looking back to him with a clear invite in her eyes. They found a table, the noise of Sunday drinks enough to give them the illusion of privacy. They ordered their meals, and without the pressure of sorting out the ghost, found time to relax and just enjoy each other’s company. Jack turned on the charm, flashing her with his grin and keeping the conversation light and interesting. They moved from her upbringing and workplaces to his; he did not hid as much as the Doctor probably would have liked him to. But if he wanted to see her for longer than this weekend, then he had to be open. He skirted some serious issues about time travelling and the Doctor. He enjoyed his steak, opting for a gin and tonic with her. He closed his eyes as he took the first sip. Unnameable pleasure welled up in him, but turned to disappointment a minute later. There was something missing. He opened his eyes to smile at her.

“You drink that like it might be made of gold dust,” she said with a snort.

“It almost tasted like you,” he said with a mock mournful glance. She coloured.

She fiddled with her own drink. Their plates had been taken away and they were waiting for dessert. “You confuse me, big boy,” she said to the glass.

“Do I?” he leaned into the table.

“Your sort don’t talk to my sort,” she said, glancing across the breadth of his chest, and then along his arm. His hand was in hers. “You’re not like any one I know.” He caught his breath.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever kissed,” he said.

“And you’re a terrible liar,” she said. He’d be happier if she sounded amused or cranky or anything. Instead, she just sounded disbelieving. “I’m sorry – about earlier today. I just..”

“It’s okay,” he tried to be soothing.

“Stop talking for a change and let me finish,” she said, grump in her voice. “I had a fiancée – his name was Lance.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “We – we had a fight, see, and some things were said. The sort of things you say in the heat of a fight. And then… he was in a car accident. He didn’t even make it to the hospital,” she said. Her eyes filled with tears, and her gaze remained fixed on her glass. He squeezed her hand. “I just thought of him at the wrong moment, and I wanted to explain.”

“I’m so sorry, Donna,” he said.

“It’s fine, I just – I haven’t been with any one else since. And you’re not going to be here for long, so I thought I should grab the moment with both hands…”

“Donna,” he said, drawing her name out into a long breath. “I’m not going anywhere for a while. I live in London. For the foreseeable future. Why do you think I’m leaving?” She froze, her glass half way to her mouth.

“You’re not leaving?”

“Not as far as I know,” he answered. It was as honest as he could get.

“See, you strike me as the kind of guy who gets what he wants. You’re charming, you’re funny, you’re handsome, and you’re not like any man who’s ever found me attractive.” Her voice showed her frustration. “I’m not expressing this at all well,” she said, and took her drink. He grinned in thankyou at her backhanded compliment.

“You wanted me; you had me. But you seemed to be tying yourself in knots. I don’t get it. Why didn’t you just sweep me off my feet? You wanted to. I could tell.” Dessert arrived, and neither of them even noticed the waiter as the plates appeared before them.

“I do want to. I want to right now.” He glanced at the hint of skin shown by the cleavage of her shirt.

“That’s not helping,” she warned him.

“I want all of you,” he said. “I want your compassion and warmth and sharp sense of humour. I don’t just want just the physical connection. I want more.”

“So… you were seducing me to seduce you?” she said. He tugged on his ear, trying to suppress yet another grin.

“Yeah…” he said slowly. “I guess so. See? You must be pretty brilliant if you can see me coming a mile away,” he allowed his grin to reach his eyes.

“You’re still running,” she reminded him. “And you’re not as subtle as you’d like to think.” He burst out laughing.

“Madam, in no way do I accuse myself of subtlety,” he said, leaning back and relaxing into the booth seat. He folded his arms behind his head, hoping she might appreciate the display of muscle. She grinned back at him, and he grinned to. It seemed she did.

“We could… ah… go back to the boat …”

“And show the ghost more real live porn?” she hissed, though amusement still glimmered in her eyes.

“Yeah…. Okay…” he said, deflated.

“I was thinking about that,” she said slowly, focussing on her icecream.

“Hmm?” he picked up the spoon for his sticky date pudding.

“Well, you were saying the conditions were right for him to materialise, but it was just not happening. I am wondering if maybe we should get him something he wants. Wants real bad. Real, real, singing about it every five seconds kind of bad. If he wants to appear, then maybe he will.” He stared at her.

“That’s brilliant!” he breathed. “We’ll get some rum on the way back to the boat. What a brilliant idea!”

“No one’s ever called me brilliant before,” she said uncomfortable. She shifted awkwardly in her chair. “Not and meant it.”

“Donna Noble, you are brilliant,” he said sincerely, capturing her gaze with his own. “That was a leap of logic and intuition. Brilliant.” He grinned proudly at her. Then offered a spoonful of sticky date pudding with caramel sauce and ice-cream.


End file.
